Stupid & Dangerous
by Stitious
Summary: After his fight with the Lizard and a stop at the convenience store for organic eggs, Peter comes back home.


Stupid & Dangerous

She could have scolded him for being so reckless; berated him until she was out of breath and his ears were bleeding. She could have waved her finger in the air like all concerned mothers then send him off to his room while she still had the power to do so. However, aunt May didn't even speak as her nephew came through the back door, bruised and bloody. She stayed silent as he gently closed the door and forced a smile at her. Hands clasped together she simply stared at him as he staggered into the light of the kitchen, bruises and dried blood now fully illuminated on his face and neck. He wasn't even trying to hide his injuries from her this time.

No words were exchanged. Peter gingerly swung the backpack from his shoulders and unzipped it, retrieving a carton of grade A organic eggs from its depths. Her hands shaking, aunt May silently took the eggs from him and set them down on the kitchen table, tears gathering in her eyes. Even in his battered state he still took the time to fulfill a once forgotten promise that she hadn't even been bitter about in the first place. If there was any word to describe her nephew Peter Parker, it was selfless. May could never be angry with him for more than five minutes. It used to be Ben who carried out the scolding and punishment; she was just there to make sure he was always all right. Even without Ben she still wanted to do the same tonight.

"My boy." Her arms opened and he limped into the embrace, letting her ease the bag from him before tiredly returning the hug. In that moment, lecturing was the furthest thing from aunt May's mind.

_'My boy… Spiderman.'_ She wasn't clueless; she had pieced together the hints and grasped what her nephew was going through, but none of that mattered now. No amount of talking would persuade him to stop. She already knew that, so she held her nephew close for the moment because it made all of those nights spent waiting up for him to come home worth so much more. If she couldn't have Ben in this moment, she would have Peter.

"Rough night." He groaned, leaning all of his weight on her because his legs simply couldn't support him anymore. They ended up on the floor of the kitchen; aunt May on her knees and Peter propped up against her, smelling of blood and chemicals. His shoulders shook with each breath; free from the weight of the city for now. The synthetic webbing that had clotted his bullet-wound had torn loose on his way over to the house and a small puddle of blood was gradually growing beneath his right leg. Aunt May noticed this and after some encouragement and support she managed to get him back onto his feet and over to the couch where he promptly collapsed. Eyes half-lidded he watched as she cut through his jeans to the injury, pause, and then cut through the spandex beneath that. Gentle fingers prodded the area, eliciting a hiss of pain from Peter.

"I appreciate the eggs, dear, but you should have stopped by the hospital first. I'm going to take you now."

"No." He said suddenly, pushing himself up onto his elbows." They would figure it all out. I can't have that… Not now." His face was one of pleading; May knew it well. "Please just… Take out the bullet and stitch it up. I'll be fine after that." He leaned back against the armrest, eyes slowly closing. "Promise." His head slumped and he was out almost instantly.

"Oh, Peter." May bit her lip, conflicted with whether or not to follow the request or just go with her own intuition. She mopped some of the blood away from the wound, carefully watching for any reaction from her nephew. If that hurt him, he showed no sign, not even when she carefully probed around the injury with her fingertips. It was usually the skateboard that brought him into the house sporting various cuts and bruises, never a gun. She could handle the skinned knees, but she wasn't sure if she could handle this.

After a few seconds of deliberation she brushed the hair from Peter's forehead before standing and heading into the bathroom for supplies. She grabbed towels, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, sewing needle with thread, and a pair of tweezers. When she returned to the living room Peter was still out cold, his head thrown back against the armrest of the couch and his mouth slightly open. It reminded May of his numerous Sunday evening naps and brought a small smile to her lips despite the situation. Ben used to grumble about Peter's weekly naps, muttering something about "chores that needed to be done" but he never got around to actually waking the teen up. Mercifully, Peter didn't wake up now as she began the process of removing the bullet and stitching the small wound up. He hardly even moved the entire time.

Once the metal round was out and the hole was closed up, aunt May let out the breath she had been holding and let her eyes roam over the other bruises and cuts that decorated her nephew. Her stomach clenched and her heart throbbed at the sight of every injury. Inside she knew that this was only the beginning. Peter wouldn't stop this superhero charade even if she begged. He was just as stubborn as his uncle.

The older woman let out a weary sigh. "And you're just as stupid and dangerous as he was too."

But, as much as she hated to admit it, it was what she had loved about her husband and what she loved about Peter and she would never trade those qualities for anything else.

Even though they were the source of her gray hairs.


End file.
